Chapter Eleven - Becca
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Warmth envelops me, and I snuggle in closer, enjoying the burrow of the covers around me. I’ve never been much of a morning person, and waking up in a bed this comfortable is making it impossible to move.
I let a slow, sleepy sigh and melt deeper into my little cocoon. Only, I realize after a few seconds, that my little pocket of warmth and coziness is moving. Or rather, breathing.
My eyes fly open. It takes a second for me to understand that the heather gray color I’m seeing isn’t the sheets, and the warmth wrapped around me isn’t the comforter.
It’s Lucky DeLucca.
We’re both laying on our sides, facing one another, and I guess at some point during the night, one or both of us gravitated towards the other. Now I’m so close, my nose is practically skimming the worn fabric of his t-shirt.
His arm is wrapped protectively around my back, and he’s holding me close, cradling me to his chest in a way that feels so incredibly intimate it should make me feel uncomfortable given the circumstances, but as the sleep wears off, I realize that it doesn’t make me feel weird at all. In fact, it’s quite the opposite.
The room is silent, save for Lucky’s deep breathing, and for a moment, I let myself stay exactly as I am, wrapped in Lucky’s arms, my forehead resting over his heartbeat.
Tears prick my eyes, and I swallow hard to keep down the lump rising in my throat.
I can’t remember the last time I felt this safe and protected, the last time someone held me like this.
It feels so incredibly good, and I don’t want to move or breathe.
I just want to stay here like this for as long as I can.
But it’s Lucky. A tiny voice whispers in my head. You can’t stand him. But even as the words register, I know they’re not true.
Lucky isn’t what I expected, and he’s definitely not what I pegged him as when we first met.
He’s funny and kind and thoughtful in a way that I couldn’t have predicted.
And his smile? Oh my god, when he smiles at me, there’s something electric about it, something that makes me feel as though I can do anything.
It’s been a really long time since I felt like someone was in my corner, but Lucky has already proven that he has my back, and now, he has it quite literally in his hands and I don’t hate it. Not one little bit.
I can’t let this happen, though. There’s no room for error when it comes to the competition. No distractions. If I don’t win, I don’t know how I’m going to take care of my mom or how we’ll live. The Starlight Challenge is my last hope.
So, I give myself one last minute, counting to sixty, as I relish the way the weight of Lucky’s arm draped over my hip feels, the press of his fingertips into my back. The way it makes my heart flutter being so near to him.
Then, carefully, I wiggle out from under his hold. Moving slowly so that I don’t wake him. There’s a tightness in my chest that I can’t explain, and when the tears threaten again, I grab my toiletry bag and head for the bathroom.
Splashing cold water on my face, I busy myself with getting ready for the day. Brushing my teeth and doing a quick skincare routine, I focus on the things I can control until I feel like myself again.
Lucky is still asleep when I walk back into the bedroom, and I see an opportunity so I grab my phone from where it’s charging next to the bed and open the camera app.
“Here we have one Lucky DeLucca in his natural habitat,” I say, using my best Steve Irwin, the Crocodile Hunter accent. “Let’s take a closer look.” I creep a little closer, zooming in on a sleeping Lucky.
He’s moved from the curled up position he was in, and now he’s all sprawled out in a tangle of limbs.
One arm is thrown over his face, and the other is resting on his stomach.
His hair is sticking up in all directions, and one foot hangs out over the side of the bed.
He isn’t snoring, but his deep breaths are loud enough for the camera to pick up.
I chuckle a little when I notice his mouth is hanging slightly open.
I tiptoe closer, holding my phone out in front of me. “What do you think? Should we wake him up?”
With a gleeful little laugh, I jump on the bed as hard as I can “Wake up, Lucky!”
His reaction is immediate.
Lucky jolts upright, his eyes wide, and his arms flailing. “No!” he bellows, his chest heaving.
The fear on his face is so real, a chill rockets through me. “Lucky?”
It takes a second for his eyes to focus on me, but when they do, I see a spark of recognition.
“Becca,” he huffs, letting out a deep breath of air and running a hand across his face. “Hey.” His voice is raspy from sleep.
“Are you okay?” I ask, afraid to make any sudden movements. What just happened? “I’m sorry if I startled you. I was just being stupid, you know, for content.” My phone is still recording, so I quickly tap the screen to switch it off.
Lucky blinks a few times and swallows. “No, it’s cool. Just . . . uh . . . a nightmare.”
“Do you get those a lot?” I don’t know why I even ask—it’s none of my business—but I need to know.
He nods. “Yeah, since March.”
March. When he had his accident.
“Oh.” I say, feeling like a gigantic jerk. I ease off the bed and force a smile on my face. “Well, it’s Challenge Day! So, uh . . . up and at ‘em!”
I flee through the open door, shutting it behind me. I lean against the wall in the hallway, my phone still clutched in my hand. I roll back the footage to see that I’ve captured Lucky’s terrified expression perfectly on camera. Do I keep it?
My finger hovers over the screen for a few seconds. I’m all about doing stuff for content but that terrified look in his eyes . . . No.
I tap to delete.
—
An hour later, we step out into the bright sunshine. After muffins and coffee with Jan, it’s time to head to the meeting spot for the first challenge. My stomach is a bundle of nerves from not knowing what to expect. I’ve never been one for surprises.
Outside, it’s already blazing. The dry New Mexico heat zaps all the moisture from my skin, making me glad I remembered to slather on a layer of sunscreen.
Pale is the new tan, after all, and with my Welsh blood, my ivory skin is practically a magnet for sunburn.
I can’t do much for the freckles I know will start appearing on the bridge of my nose and cheeks before too long, but I hadn’t thought to bring a hat.
Lucky did, but he’s wearing it backward. A pair of black sunglasses perch on the bridge of his nose. His shirt is sleeveless, showing off tan, muscular arms. Sweet Lord. I swallow.
“Did you put on sunscreen?” I ask, more for something to say than actual concern. We didn’t speak much over breakfast. I’m not sure if Lucky feels awkward too, or if it’s just me.
He gives me a sort of half smile. “Nah, I tan pretty easily.”
His nonchalance makes me roll my eyes. If there’s one thing I take seriously, it’s skincare.
“You should still put some on. It does more than just prevent sunburn, you know.” I pull the tube of SPF out of my bag.
“The sun is emitting ultraviolet radiation which really does a number on your skin. It puts you at risk for skin cancer, and it makes you look older. You may be cute now, but if you don’t take care of your skin, you’ll—”
“You think I’m cute?” Lucky interrupts my tirade.
I purse my lips to swallow the laugh and the embarrassment rising in my throat. “Not the point.” I indicate the bottle of sunscreen. “Just put it on, okay? You’ll thank me later.”
He takes it from my hand with a chuckle. “Sure thing.” He sets to work lathering his exposed skin. I supervise, my hands on my hips.
“Think you can help me out?” Lucky points to the back of his neck. “And maybe my face?”
“Such a baby,” I tease, taking the tube and squeezing out a dollop into my palm. I stand up on my tiptoes, attempting to reach the patch of skin on his neck.
“Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your hair,” I say, tugging on his shirt.
He chuckles and bends down so I can reach. I rub the thick, white substance into his skin. When I’m done, I walk around to face him.
He tilts his chin up and closes his eyes. “Careful now, Holly G. That stuff stings like a mother if you get it in your eyes. I don’t want you to see me cry.”
Feeling like Michelangelo, I paint the canvas of his face, smoothing out the planes of his cheeks and covering them with sunscreen. There are a few nearly translucent freckles on his nose, and I notice that his eyelashes are so blonde, you don’t see the thick curl of them until you’re up close.
I’m smiling now, and I know it doesn’t have anything to do with the fact that I won the battle against harmful UV rays. When I finish, I rub my hand together, kneading the last bit of residue into my palms. “All done.”
Lucky’s eyes pop open. “Thanks.”
I have to clear my throat. His eyes are bright—I hadn’t noticed their ocean blue color before now. “You and your skin in ten years are welcome.”
I shove the tube of sunscreen back into my bag, grateful for something to do—a distraction.
Stop that Bex! I practically yell at myself. You do not think Lucky DeLucca is attractive! Yet even as my subconscious screams at me, I know the words are a lie. Because as much as I don’t want to. I totally do.
“It’s only two miles to the city center,” Lucky says, stretching his arms wide over his head. “Do you just want to walk?”
“I’d rather take the car,” I say. “Since we don’t know what the challenge entails, I think we better be prepared for anything.” Talking about the challenge brings the nerves back, and my stomach flutters.
“True, true,” Lucky says, pulling open the passenger side door. “So where to? The museum?
“Yeah, according to the information from Starlight, we’re to report in front of the Roswell UFO Museum at 10:00 a.m. sharp.”